At the edge of emotion
by GoingVintage
Summary: Felicity stops herself from reacting until she can't hold it in anymore, leaving Oliver confused. (Aka my own reaction to episode 2x13.)


Felicity Smoak often pretended that disappointment didn't weigh her down, even if it really ran like a thick, dark thread through the fabric of her life. A father who walked out on her third day of first grade with nothing more than a kiss to the forehead and a pat on the back. A mother who turned to pills and a bevy of men to fill the empty void of abandonment, meaning that Felicity had pretty much raised herself. College friends who weren't really friends at all but opportunists who knew that her genius brain could get them through their classes. In a way, disappointment had been a bigger companion in her life than any one person ever had been, which, even she could admit, was pathetic.

It wasn't until a certain billionaire brought in a bullet-riddled laptop that her life started to look up. Her life as part of Team Arrow (Oliver could just get over the fact that she'd chosen the moniker and she was going to keep using it) hadn't given her meaning, per se, but it had reminded her that she had skills and talent and value that benefited the world, maybe even helping to make it a better place. She found solace in her place inside the lair. She found friends and acceptance in a world that often didn't know what to do with a woman who preferred bottle-blond hair, tight dresses, and bright pink lipstick but rambled, spent most of her time pulling her foot out of her mouth, and had a dauntingly high IQ.

On a quiet Thursday night, Felicity sat back in her chair and stared at the chipped purple paint on her nails. It had been such a busy week, a string of bank robbers involving the kind of Mirakuru-laced strength that simply allowed for bank vault doors to be pulled off and crumpled like tinfoil. She'd been so busy that she had done an excellent job of ignoring the change inside the small space where they all worked. The room seemed to crackle with something that felt like a mixture of electricity and stress and, worst of all, sexual tension. Roy stayed back and observed it all, while John kept furtively glancing her way, as if Felicity was going to break at any moment. But, if Felicity could pat herself on the back, she'd been doing a damn good job of ignoring the way Oliver and Sara's fingers were twined together as they sat and talked. She'd ignored the quiet voices, the heads bent close together, the lingering glances between the two. She hid the fact that she knew that Oliver had clearly decided that his life _did _allow him to be with someone he truly cared about, as long as that someone was just like him. Most importantly, she'd hidden the fact that it all hurt like a bitch.

In reality, Felicity did what she had always done – found strength and determination inside the swirl of lies and disappointment that seemed to crash over her life like waves.

"Felicity?"

Oliver's sharp voice jolted her from the inner monologue racing through her brain. Spinning around in her chair, she arched her brow. "Yes?"

Removing his arm from around Sara's shoulders and standing up, Oliver moved to stand beside Felicity. His familiar scent, which she usually let wrap around her like a protective blanket, was marred by the flowery perfume that Sara seemed to douse herself in when she wasn't donning the leather and the mask of her vigilante garb. (Seriously, had she never read the most basic rules of Superhero 101? Not wearing perfume or cologne or any identifiable scent was one of the easiest rules of protecting someone's identity!)

"How are the scans going?"

Felicity turned in her chair to check the screens again before shrugging. "They're taking a while. I'm searching multiple databases at once, trying to see when the activity spiked around discussions of Starling City. Since we don't know which one of these supermen are doing it thanks to surveillance cameras being scrambled, I'm looking for specific signatures in patterns of text on message boards. They're talking about this out there and, if we give it enough time, I can figure out who 'they' are."

"I'm going to check on Laurel," Sara interrupted. "She's not answering her phone again and, based on what Dad said earlier, she's probably on a bender. I'll be back later."

Oliver nodded at Sara before looking back at the rapidly moving scan on the screen in front of him. "Any hits yet?"

"A few." Felicity clicked a few buttons. "But not as many as we'll need."

"Keep at it." Oliver squeezed her shoulder and Felicity took a breath, the familiar heat of his touch ricocheting through her body before settling low at the base of her spine. She wanted to yell at herself for reacting to him at all. Stupid, traitorous body. If there was one thing Felicity knew with the utmost confidence, it was that physical reactions to Oliver Queen were useless wastes of energy. Like being in love with a celebrity. Or buying a lottery ticket. Or jumping off a roof to see if you could fly (she still had three pins in her arm from that fifteen-year-old mistake.)

"Roy and I are going for food. Anybody want anything?"

Felicity and Oliver turned toward Diggle, both shaking their heads at the same time. The men quickly left, leaving the two of them alone in the lair. An air of unsteadiness settled between them, making her need to distract herself from the awkwardness of it all. Felicity hated how uncomfortable she felt – she'd never used to feel uncomfortable around Oliver.

Turning back to her scans, she opened up a few more windows to do a few minor searches. Anything to keep herself busy and distracted and away from the stupid, razor-edge of the emotions that made her want to lash out or cry or hack into the CIA just for a bit of a release. After a few seconds, Oliver moved away and then she started to hear the familiar thumping of his fists against the punching bag.

* * *

Oliver was just working up a thin sheen of sweat, his muscles beginning to burn and make him feel alive, when Felicity stood up. He watched her reach for her coat and what he was doing before was forgotten as he advanced toward her. "Where are you going?"

Felicity shot a glance over her shoulder at the screens behind her before sliding her coat on. "The scans won't be done for a few more hours. I can monitor them from home."

"You have plans tonight or something?" Oliver crossed his arms, a weird sort of tug inside his chest making him feel uneasy.

"No," Felicity let the word slide from her mouth carefully, dragging it out. "I don't have to be here _all _the time, Oliver."

"Well, you usually are. You never leave."

Behind her glasses, her eyes clouded with what looked like anger. It was only there for a heartbeat before it was gone again and she was smiling at him. "Maybe it's time I get a life, too." Felicity reached for her bag. "You're not the only one of us allowed to have some sweaty, dirty fun, you know."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Oliver barked out the question, his tone coming out harsher than he'd intended, but he'd felt her barb and wanted her to lay it out for him.

"You don't need me to explain it to you, Oliver. I'm not the one who had sex in the middle of the floor the other night." She motioned toward the back of the lair. "Loud, dramatic sex, from the looks of it."

Oliver paled. "You…what?"

Felicity pointed at the video camera mounted on the beam behind him. "Did you think I installed that one for no reason? I check it every day to make sure everything in here remains untouched."

"Shit." Oliver scraped his hand across his hair, his face uncharacteristically burning from embarrassment. "You didn't… watch it, did you?"

Felicity let out an irritated laugh and grabbed her bag. "No. I closed my eyes, fast-forwarded through it, and then archived it like I do for the rest of the video we capture. If you're interested, of course, your own personal porno is over there in the filing cabinet. I'm sure you and Sara could enjoy it with some popcorn and a box of Junior Mints."

Oliver took a step toward her. "I can explain."

Felicity put her hand up to stop him. "I don't want you to. You don't owe me an explanation and, frankly, I'm tired of the explanations you've given in the past, because they're… well… they're lies."

"What?" Oliver crossed his arms, his jaw tightening into a firm, hard line as he eyed her.

"You… I… Just..." Felicity blinked twice and shook her head. "Nope. Not going there. I told myself that I wasn't going to go there and I'm not. The fact that you continue to make poisonous choices in your personal life has nothing to do with me."

"And yet here you are, freely sharing your opinions about my choices. A little two-faced, don't you think?"

Felicity tugged her bag high up on her shoulder and belted her coat. "Oh, I think a lot of things. Mainly about how you seem to think the sun rises and settles in the vaginas of the Lance sisters. If it's not Laurel, it's Sara. A year ago, Laurel was all you could focus on. You've put yourself into needless danger a hundred times because she's pouted her lips at the Arrow and asked for help. And then Sara comes back – the sister you _cheated _on the supposed love of your life with - and now you're stumbling all over yourself to be with her? If Laurel can stay sober long enough, how do you think that's going to make her feel?" Felicity snorted. "Oh, that's right, you don't think about how anyone else is going to feel, and neither does your girlfriend." Felicity moved around him to head toward the door, but Oliver's arm shot out to block her. "Let me go," she snapped.

"We're not done."

The fire flashing in Felicity's eyes made him pause. He'd read a lot of looks in her eyes before, mainly fear, determination, and even a hint of lust, but the guarded, untrusting, angry look she gave him now was new, and it scared the shit out of him.

"We are _so _done. I'm part of this team and I'm damn good at what I do, but I don't have to sit around like I'm in some high school cafeteria watching the two popular kids make out. When you're ready to do some actual work, send me a text. Until then, I'm going to go find a friend, if I even still have any thanks to all the time I spend with you at the expense of everything and everyone else, and have some dinner that doesn't come in a grease-soaked bag for once."

Even though he wanted her stay and explain where her anger was coming from, Oliver dropped his arm away and stood to the side. Felicity left without another word, the heavy door of the lair slamming behind her. Inside the room, the sound of blood rushing through his ears was so loud that he didn't realize Sara was back and standing beside him until she touched his arm.

"What was that about?"

Oliver stared at the door Felicity had exited from. "I'm not sure."

"I could hear you two yelling from outside. Since when does Felicity ever yell?"

Oliver snorted. "You don't know her at all, Sara. She's as feisty as they come."

"Well, what set her off?"

Peering into her eyes, he nodded. "You."

Sara gave him a smile and wrapped her hand around his arm. "Ahh, the green-eyed monster of jealousy shows its ugly face. I wondered how long that would take."

"Huh?" Oliver scoffed. "She just thinks I'm not making wise choices."

Sara pushed him down into a chair and sat down on his firm thighs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "She's never going to think you've made a wise choice until you pick her."

Oliver's brow furrowed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That woman is in love with you, Oliver."

"Felicity?" Oliver laughed. "No way. She's just… protective. We're important to one another."

"Yes," Sara prodded. "You find her to be an invaluable part of your team, and she finds you to be the employer who she just happens to be in love with."

"She's more than my employee, Sara. I've told you that."

Sara pursed her lips. "What do you mean?"

Oliver stared above Sara's head, his eyes not seeing. A quick flash of his interactions with Felicity running through his head as he tried to see how Sara could believe Felicity had feelings for him. "She's my partner. I can't do this without her. It's not a romantic thing. It's a trust and understanding thing. That's all."

Sara shook her head, seemingly bored with the conversation as she began to press soft kisses to Oliver's throat. He only partially felt them, his mind on the fight and, before that, Felicity's past reactions to him. Did he know she appreciated his body and enjoyed watching him? Yeah. Did he play that up a lot, wandering around shirtless and working out in front of her? Sure. Who wouldn't mind the appreciating gaze of a beautiful woman? But love? Really?

Sara was just slipping her hand toward his belt buckle when his phone rang. Pushing her off his lap, he lunged for the phone, only to see Officer Lance's name on the screen. Donning the Arrow persona, he answered, "Yes?"

"Another robbery. Three minutes ago. Starling International Bank."

"Be right there." Oliver slipped the phone back into his pocket and ticked his head toward Sara. "C'mon. Another robbery just went down."

Shooting a text to Felicity and then grabbing his quiver, Oliver felt some of the tension slip from his body. Sara was wrong. Felicity cared about him, was one of the truest friends he'd ever had. She stuck her neck out for him in ways no one else ever had because that's the type of person she was, not because she had any feelings for him. No, he told himself, emotional entanglements weren't his thing. Figuring out what the hell he was doing with the women in his life was never an easy thing to deal with. Crime-fighting, though, _that _was his thing.

"Ollie, come on!" Sara was already suited up, her mask over her eyes, ready to go.

Sliding his quiver over his shoulder, he decided that, when he was done, maybe he'd swing by Felicity's place so they could patch things up before morning. Everything with Felicity would be fine because it always was. Right?


End file.
